A Walk In the Carnation

I Ain't Buyin It.

Yes folks, yet another bitter diatribe regarding the pathetic state of consumerism that plagues our nation.

I make myself sick.

A few months ago, while in church in Kansas City, I was struck my a clever little description the pastor gave regarding consumerism:

"Our country has been stricken with af-fluenza, this virus that causes us to be obsessed with creating the illusion of wealth. In particular, many Christians suffer from the H1N1 strain, that is 'have one, but need one".

my inner mind: (hummm. Funny, Pastor. Witty, even. But that's not me. *mentally sticks nose up in air*)

He talked about our lack of perspective when it comes to real wealth and how an accumulation of shiny things is of no significance in the realm of relationships. Really, if a man is a car collector and spends the years of his life trading parts, toiling in his garage, reading on the latest, what has he to show for it at his deathbed? Cars don't attend funerals. Please, we should be investing our time, funds, and energies into people.

Because our relationships are all we take with us.

This issue just reemerged on my radar because I have been fighting off affluenza for the past few weeks.

[Summer collections are out at Nordstrom.

I want a new Camelbak.

I want an ipod jack in my car.

I have bad hair.

I like jewelry.

Iphone 4.

I want an electronic reader to travel.

My friends have ridiculous sparklers on their fingers.

Don't I need that pretty blanket?

Don't I need that frame/shelf/lamp/shop vac for my house that I don't live in?!]

I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want.

What an asshole.

So here is my declaration:

I will spend money to travel.

I will spend money on others, and ask them to pay it forward.

I will spend money to invest in the people in my life.

I will spend money in a way that I can defend at the pearly gates.

After all, as Miss Dolly Levi says: "Money is like manure, it's not worth a thing unless it's spread around encouraging young things to grow."

Throw it around, people. Leave the stuff at the store. Have experiences, build stories and friendships.

Love Love Love

Oh Fine!

I have been getting complaints about the lack of regularity with which I post on this dear blog.

shove it.

I don't get to blog while giving the illusion of work, and I don't sit behind a desk all day at work, thinking about what I can blog on next.

My method is much more raw. I go play, and then when I have some time to sit and reflect, it all comes tumbling out, for all of you to enjoy. Yes, I agree it's the blogging pattern of a bulimic, but I was never a fan of predictable patterns.

Stick with me, my friends.

Love Love Love.

Urgh.

and now, Ladies and Gents, for the stupid. One thing that all new homeowners experience, I'm convinced, is the urge to call the previous owners and demand a tour. A tour through the house explaining themselves and why there is so much stupidity in the house.

Now, in their defense I will openly admit that I had only spent a collective of 30 minutes in my house before purchasing it. But even still, there are so many non-obvious decisions only evident after you move in, buy out the home depot, and attempt to change some things. You discover that there are outlets lining the ceiling of your great room, moulding where it doesn't belong, and a fuse box in your office.

Know what happens? 75 minutes of buyers remorse. Your temples get hot, your palms sticky, and you suspect your throat might close up from anaphylactic shock. Yes, anaphylactic, due to an extreme allergy to overwhelmedness. You fight every urge to call your realtor and employ every excuse you can think of to back out of this deal, because you're sure there has to be some way out of this.

But then you get over it when you remember that, as therapy, you can take pictures of the stupid and post them on your blog. Then all of cyberspace can empathize with you. or laugh.

There are two of these in every bedroom. They are ugly. If you open the door, you will not find the other chamber to the magical land of Narnia. All that you'll find is a vent to the outside, allegedly with the purpose of circulating air through the bedroom. Who cares?! In my find, they are another thing to paint around. LAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMME.

Now who doesn't love a fire pit? Such an attractant to bring your friends over to roast smellows and find silly songs. Nothing like fire and fellowship to bring people together. Oh wait, the pig pen is so close, you cant even sit all the way around it. Oh yeah, and there's a pig pen in my yard.

I can't see in the mirror in my bathroom. Ah, no one wants to look at themselves while brushing their teeth, anyway right? WRONG. That's when I notice the stray eyebrow hairs and toothpaste on my shirt. Upon first discovery, I thought I would just rehang the vanity. No can do, Harriet Homeowner, it's built into the wall.

Obviously I got over all of these things. Because I still spent so much time working for four days straight that I came out looking like a battered woman. Gives the term domestic abuse a whole new interpretation, right? Shiest.

Who Needs Ty,

To stage your very own Extreme Home Makeover? Not this girl. Check out all the fun I had Ming-ing my new house.

Before: gross olive green, a confusing built in unit, and painted brick (red! who paints brick red?!

The kitchen definitely felt like a red coffin. Way too contemporary looking for my taste, it was harsh. I want whimsy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~five gallons of paint, three days, and four hours scrubbing my floors later.......

I love the transformation. I knew I wanted my walls to be a definite color, not just neutral or brown. This granny smith apple green is so bright and silly. In the search for a color to complement the kitchen's existing black and white everywhere, I decided to go big and just paint it Caribbean blue. It's real whimsical.

My house and I are currently in the most perfect phase. We're still honey mooning, and I havent made a mortgage payment yet. So far, it's bliss.

Shut up, I know this denial is short-lived.

Love Love Love.

Hawaii Highlights.

1. renting bikes and riding across the North Shore. I jumped off of a rock with a little boy, who subsequently was able to shut his naysaying sister up. hijinks.

2. hiking mt olympus. the bottom looks like washington, but you end up hiking through the jungle, traipsing over roots, scurrying up mudslides, and darting through poky bushes. the trail runs right on top of the ridge, and gave belly quivering views of the entire mountain range.

3. lighthouse trail. easy peasy paved road up, views of makapu'u beach and humpback whales.

4. snorkeling by electric beach. twice. turns out if you make friends with the crew, they let you come back just to hang out.

5. kokohead. 1200 steps to the top, panoramic views of waikiki and honolulu.

aloha aloha aloha.

It's Mine!

Docs are signed, money transferred, keys in hand. I am now a bona fide home owner. It's not quite real to me yet; particularly since I have pawned off all of the work since finding this little cottage. I didn't go to the home inspection, I faxed docs, I didn't do the final walk-through, and I wasn't there for the signing. I must really trust my people, huh? Now for paint samples. I am surprisingly giddy about this process. I feel like because I am young and single, I don't really have to take this house THAT seriously. I can paint the walls bright green and buy that Skymall wall map I have always wanted. and I will!

Got a Plan?

I'm pretty much perpetually on the (no plan) Plan. It's fun. However, society and the man force me, at times, to hunker down and arrange some things. and then God laughs.

let's recap the last few months of plans, shall we?

I PLANNED to be working in NYC after Kansas City.

I PLANNED to be ecstatic with all of my friends forever.

I PLANNED to have good weather while driving across the nation.

I PLANNED to have pie on my birthday and end it with an intact vehicle.

I PLANNED to pay less for my house.

I PLANNED to go to Europe with Lindsay.

I PLANNED to go to Thailand to play with the girls and eat rombutan.

I PLANNED to hate the weather here and get fat in response to the depression.

Instead?

went to hawaii and had an epic time. got the house i wanted in the first place. am dancing about in the great Seattle weather. will probably go to europe in the fall for oktoberfest instead. will go see my grandma in China this summer. got extended here until early July. will take August off to play. learned to make peace and let go. started to appreciate my state like never before. learned to love the rain (!!).

I still win! See? the (no plan) Plan will always work itself out.

One , Two, SKYDIVE.

It should be of no shock to anyone that I have a really long bucket list. Someday I might post it, but for now it feels safe and sweet to keep it to myself, tucked safely away in the email drafts folder to be edited, added, modified. While I may or may not commit to all of such items, there has always been one that was non-negotiable: I wanted to go skydiving.

Mind you, my short stature and genetics (?) have combined to create a vortex of height phobia. I hate ladders, my knees wobble whenever I'm close to a railing, and I was always the one on the ground handing my dad christmas lights, while trying to not let him hear my voice quiver just watching him climb onto the roof.

I also hate that girl. She's fussy. She's a whiner. She is not fun enough.

So I have stifled her my entire life. Gritted my teeth and looked over the edge of the Statue of Liberty's crown, force myself to jump off of rocks, decided to hold tree pose at the top of everything I hike or climb no matter the terrain. Well kids, I think I may have gotten over it this time. I completely buy into the idea of chasing your fears, and this one was immensely rewarding. I mentioned it to Tim and Crista the first night I arrived in Hawaii, kind of giving myself the option to cop out. But as the spectacular week went on, I knew that I had to top it al off with a gigantic leap of faith.

Crista and I got all harnessed up, climbed into the plane, and it took off. I was totally fine, already feeling like a badass. But then, one of the dive masters opened the door, and leaned out, pointing to something I didn't dare move my head to look at. Oh boy. My dive master pries my fingers from the handle on the side of the plane and shoves me at the door.

"Look," he yelled, "I don't get to go skydiving again...... until tomorrow. So quit the silly and let's have a really fun jump!" and then he shoved me out of the plane.

The first five seconds were sheer terror. No words.

The rest of the ride was unbelievable bliss.

You have to try it. Cowabunga, dude.

Love Love Love.

It's so odd.

Since coming to the Seattle area, I have been thinking about marriage and relationships a lot. I have caught myself watching couples on bikes, gazing at the twosomes out at restaurants, and really noticing all of the pairs around me. Wait for it, that's not the odd part; I know that there are couples everywhere. The odd part is that recently I have been noticing couples and instead of rolling my eyes or quickly darting past them, I've been admiring. oh no.

I was driving yesterday when I caught myself staring at the couple in the car in front of me. He was singing along loudly to the radio, she was giggling uncontrollably at him. They had their backseat packed to the brim with gear like they were going to go do something superfun together. I found myself smiling at them, at how much fun they seemed like. I couldnt stop gawking at these two, it was ridiculous and borderline intrusive.

Upon further reflection, I discovered the culprit of my recent bout of smush-tolerance;

I'm now surrounded by functional relationships. Gasp!

No detail is needed here, but it would be accurate to say that my examples of healthy, happy, functional marriages are not the most obvious. From where I come from, marriages are pretty much endured and relationships end more than they stay. Not just my parents, but my closest friends and relations as well. I don't know, it's just the reality of it. People aren't perfect, and marriages are messy. After all, does it really make sense for two smelly, flawed, humans to be together all the time without wanting to bash the other repeatedly? Furthermore, all of the cities that I have lived in since leaving Spokane boast large populations of contented singles like myself and therefore I have been surrounded by people who live like me. These facts, mixed with my own disastrous dating experiences have garnered me a somewhat apathetic view on love and marriage. Meh. If it happens, fine. But in the meantime, I certainly am not going to wait around chasing a pipe dream. I've got bigger fish to fry. My life started way before I meet Mr Ryan-Reynolds-meets-Jason-Mraz-meets-Mike-Rowe. I function very much on the avoidance of apple cart disrupting. I have rigged my life to play exactly how I like it, and have learned to crave independence while being perfectly lonely.

The difference, now, is that I am around so many delighted relationships. For some reason, most all of my friends and family who live here all still like their others. I've been third/fifth/seventh wheel at every social event I go to, what the heck? Racking my brain, racking my brain..... nope, no single friends here. Just people who love the one they're with, who play and laugh and excite each other to no end. The worst part is, they make it look easy! Where the hell are all the fits of rage, the bruised feelings, the lying, cheating, and neanderthals?! Therefore, a theory has been brewed:

Seattle makes people love each other. Awww.